


The Erotic Exclusion Resolution

by tree



Category: The Middleman (TV)
Genre: Community: kink_bingo, F/M, chastity devices
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-08-18
Updated: 2011-08-18
Packaged: 2017-10-22 18:59:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 943
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/241437
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tree/pseuds/tree
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Much as The Middleman struggled to keep his feelings for Miss Thornfield chaste and within the bounds of gentlemanly propriety, those feelings were increasingly refusing to be kept.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Erotic Exclusion Resolution

**Author's Note:**

> Many, many thanks to mr tree, who not only is willing to brainstorm my kink bingo card with me, but also came up with the idea for this in the first place. He is an evil genius.

**Middleman HQ  
Closing Time**

Desperate times called for desperate measures and The Middleman was desperate. He was a former Navy Seal, the favourite apprentice of Sensei Ping, and he had single-handedly defeated the Aztec-mummy-cursed Cien Máscaras' one hundred identical men who all wear the same mask, yet his most formidable opponent remained undefeated. She was a small, blonde confrontational spoken-word artist named Lacey Thornfield.

Much as he struggled to keep his feelings for Miss Thornfield chaste and within the bounds of gentlemanly propriety, those feelings were increasingly refusing to be kept. The Middleman feared it was only a matter of time before his iron control snapped and he engaged in behaviour unbecoming of a Middleman. Many a night had he woken feverish in twisted sheets after dreams of passionate hand-holding and, once, an Argentine tango.

So it was that after a nutritious dinner comprised of foods from all five food groups in their appropriate pyramidal ratios, accompanied by a refreshing glass of milk, The Middleman took the Middle Elevator to the seventh floor, second door on the left, to avail himself of mankind's last defence against the fiendish use of alien sex pollen, lust rays, and other carnal weaponry: the atomic chastity device.

Everything was going extremely well until--

 

 **The illegal sublet Wendy shares with another young, photogenic artist  
02:17:23 atomic time**

"I thought Edward Scissorhands was just a 90s cult movie starring Johnny Depp and Winona Ryder directed by Tim Burton!" Wendy Watson said as she unlocked the door to the apartment.

"Where do you think Mr Burton got the idea in the first place, Dubbie?" asked The Middleman.

"Dub Dub! Wendy's Boss! What happened to your clothes?" Lacey looked aghast at their shredded sartorial remains.

Wendy looked blankly at The Middleman, who was looking blankly at Lacey. "Freak attack at a fashion show," she said. "Two rival designers went after each other with scissors in the dressing area. We got caught in the fray."

"Fashion is a passionate and unpredictable profession," said The Middleman, smiling.

"Wow," said Lacey dreamily, staring at The Middleman. "Are you hurt?"

"We're fine," Wendy said. "Although that's as close as I ever want to get to being arrested for indecent exposure."

When Lacey and The Middleman only continued to stare at each other and smile goofily, Wendy rolled her eyes. "Okay! I'm going upstairs to change. You guys can--" she waved her hand around "--do whatever."

The Middleman took a step closer to Lacey. "Miss Thornfield, I'm terribly sorry we disturbed you at this late hour."

Lacey took a step closer to The Middleman. "No, it's fine. I was awake. I was working on a new confrontational spoken-word performance piece about the horrible mutilation of male circumcision."

The Middleman winced slightly. "That sounds fascinating. I look forward to your performance."

Lacey smiled shyly. "So, um, do you want to stay here tonight? It's pretty late."

"Thank you, but that won't be necessary. Now that I've delivered Wendy safe and sound, I'll be on my way."

"Oh." Lacey looked down at the floor, then jerked her eyes back up in surprise. "There's something, uh, _glowing_ in your pants."

"Heavens to Betsy!" The Middleman cried, looking down at his ruined uniform trousers. He swiftly turned his back to Lacey and attempted to cover his groin with his hands.

"What is it?" Lacey asked worriedly from behind him. "Are you sick? Have you been exposed to some kind of toxic animal-based cosmetic?"

"Uh, no," said The Middleman, racking his not-inconsiderable brain for an explanation (not even a good one at this point, just anything) that wouldn't betray his shameful secret. Finally, admitting defeat, he hung his head. "The truth is, Miss Thornfield, that I am wearing a device designed to impede one's ability to... um..."

Lacey came hesitantly around to face him. "You're wearing a chastity belt?"

"Well, it's not so much a belt as it is an, err, atomic apparatus."

"Atomic? Like radiation? That can make you sterile!"

He looked up and met her concerned gaze. "It's actually an ingenious design that powers itself by absorbing background radiation. And, if the operating instructions are to be believed, it can in fact increase virility."

"But... why are you wearing it?" Her forehead was charmingly creased in puzzlement.

"I'm ashamed to admit that I had begun to fear my self-control could not withstand the strength of my feelings for you."

She smiled widely. "Really?"

"I'm afraid so."

"And because of that you're wearing this chastity, um, device?"

"Yes."

"That's so _hot_."

The Middleman blinked. "I beg your pardon?"

"I find your willingness to undergo physical deprivation and to renounce sexual pleasure in order to satisfy your own overwhelming sense of honour incredibly erotic."

"You do?" he squeaked.

"Yeah," she sighed.

Just then, Wendy came down the stairs. "Hey, you're still here. Did I forget something?"

The Middleman cleared his throat and turned to face her, hands still strategically covering his groin. "No, just making sure you suffered no lasting effects from the attack. At the fashion shoot," he clarified.

"Nope. I'm all good."

"Well, I'll be off then. Goodnight Dubbie. Goodnight Lacey."

"'Night," called Wendy on her way to the fridge.

"Goodnight Wendy's Sexy Bossman," Lacey purred.

The Middleman swallowed convulsively and stepped into the hallway, closing the door behind him. He leaned against the wall for a moment, his heart hammering in his chest. Perhaps he would ask Ida to check the HEYDAR tomorrow in the hope that there existed something more powerful than the atomic chastity device. He'd begun to suspect that alien sex pollen, lust rays, and other carnal weaponry had nothing on Lacey Thornfield.


End file.
